


apart

by khayr



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Finale spoilers, let this poor witch rest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:45:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6008983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khayr/pseuds/khayr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third time she woke up alone it finally hit her that this wasn’t just another nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	apart

**Author's Note:**

> im dead inside : )

The third time she woke up alone it finally hit her that this wasn’t just another nightmare.   
  
Glynda had tried to avoid returning home for as long as possible, instead choosing to push herself to sort through rubble and repair the damage that had been done to Vale. She worked like a machine- one whose circuits occasionally fried and overheated- until Oobleck and Port had corralled her into actually going to get some sleep to give her aura time to recharge. The fact that it had taken them very little effort to get her to do it spoke volumes of the exhaustion seated deep in her bones.    
  
Now that she was here, she wished desperately for her office at Beacon instead… or anywhere else, for that matter. Anyplace but here. Each corner of what was their shared space was littered with reminders that Ozpin was gone and she was left to pick up the pieces on her own. His coffee mug from the morning before this had all started was right where he had left it on the bedside table- despite her nagging to at least put it in the sink- the remaining liquid dried to the bottom in a dark ring. Glynda hardly had the heart to move it even now.    
  
She shifted her weight, her muscles aching in protest from over-exertion. Without the constant threat of Grimm around the corner or the drive to rip through rubble in search of survivors her mind was doing its best to wander towards the truth that she had managed to push out so far. Glynda rolled over, feeling the dip in the mattress where Ozpin usually curled next to her. Empty, just as it had been the last two times she’d woken up during the night. Restful sleep eluded her and she noted with no small amount of bitterness that she only felt more tired than she had before she came home.   
  
Her fingers grasped for the picture frame on his side of the bed, staring blankly at the photograph for a minute or two in the dim light of the room. It was his favorite of them- and the one she liked the least, naturally- taken in a photobooth at some event or other years ago. He’d insisted on the string of goofy photos after pointing out that he always let her pick their poses in the other ones. Glynda left it in the tangle of sheets, sitting up to thread her fingers through her hair as if the action would settle her mind.   
  
It didn’t.   
  
Glynda let out a low sigh, gathering the thick comforter into her arms and sliding out of bed with it to retreat to the couch. There was no guarantee that she would get any more rest here, but the alternative was to wake up periodically throughout the night wrapped in the familiar scent of a man that had disappeared without a trace. If she wanted to press on in her duties she needed as much rest as she could get or surely she’d only be putting her life in more unnecessary danger.   
  
She’d put the people first; she could draw her walls up further than before, drown out the ache in her chest with repetitive work until they had managed to find a solid lead she could follow. When the sun came up she’d hit the city again and carry on like she was trained to do. If Ozpin was alive- and she was certain he still was- they would find him. If she had to scour to the edges of Remnant herself he would find his way home.   
  
The quiet, rhythmic tick of the clock in the living room managed to soothe her nerves some. 


End file.
